2/23/2004
“I believe only in money, not in love or tenderness. Love and tenderness meant only pain and suffering and defeat. I would not let it ruin me as it did others! I would only speak with money, hard money.” --- Agnes Smedley
THE ONLY THING WORSE THAN A BAD MOVIE: BAD MUSIC
50 First Dates is down to number and my older brother informed me of one of the greatest evils I’ve ever seen. The soundtrack of this film is filled with reggae versions of 80’s pop hits. “Your Love” by The Outfield is redone by Wyclef Jean and Eve. “Drive” by The Cars is done by Ziggy Marley. And so on. First of all, THEY’RE IN FUCKING HAWAII, NOT JAMAICA! WHY THE FUCK ARE THEY REGGAE COVERS!?! Typical White people. One island paradise filled with brown skinned people is indistinguishable from any other to you people. Also, THESE SONG SUCK! Hell, they barely qualify as guilty pleasures to begin with (though I taught myself to play both of them the first year I started taking guitar lessons) and don’t need to be remade, much less remade as half-assed reggae tunes by the marginally talented. But in that context, it makes sense they’d be in an Adam Sandler film, doesn’t it?
THE ORIGINAL TITLE OF BOY GEORGE’S MUSICAL
Opening at number two is Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen and it is not the story of a young gay man coming out like most of us in New York, LA and San Francisco thought. It’s actually about a teenage girl who wants to be a star. Or something. Honestly, I just don’t care. Lindsay Lohan was good in Freaky Friday (where Jamie Lee Curtis was denied an Oscar nomination for her performance) but not enough to make a fan out of me. What’s going to fun is watching both her and Hillary Duff go through eating disorders over the next few years trying to sustain their careers into adulthood. Oh, don’t act like it’s me that’s causing it. I’m not the one acting like frighteningly skinny Mischa Barton (also only 17) is even attractive, much less sexy. It’s just the way Hollywood is now. If they can change it great, but I see both of them doing a Christina Ricci, cause neither one is what I’d call skinny. And apparently Lindsay has already realized the power of breasts, because I can’t see her on a talk show without cleavage. It was very, very creepy to see David Letterman show a picture from her in a skit on his show when she was only 8-years-old and then see her sitting next to him with her boobs hanging out. That’s almost as disturbing as seeing the girl who played Rudy on The Cosby Show posing in a bikini on some stupid men’s magazine.
SHE’LL ALWAYS BE LISA TO ME
Miracle holds at number three while Welcome to Mooseport opens at number four, and while I love Maura Tierney so much I’ll occasionally suffer through a little e.r. on her behalf, I draw the line at something paring her with fucking Ray Ramano and Gene Hackman. What did she do to deserve these two as her love interests? At least she got the good-looking George Clooney replacement and Noah Wylie on e.r. While this did look a bit humorous in the commercials, it wasn’t two fucking hours of humorous. Yes, it’s two hours long. Very few comedies need to be that long and this damn sure ain’t one of them. I don’t not watch Everybody Loves Raymond simply because I don’t find incredibly annoying people funny. As it is, I can’t really watch Seinfeld in reruns because I always hated George so damn much. Kramer too. That’s half the show. Everybody Loves Raymond has his annoying mother and the little I’ve seen of her had me wanting to strangle someone. That kind of irritation is simply not funny to me. Granted she’s not in the movie, but my point is I’ve got no love of Ray Romano either, so this will be something I’ll see in five-minute-increments on cable in a year. Kinda like I’m watching Old School these days. I’ve yet to see the whole thing, but I’m getting it all in five minute segments.
VOMIT AND NAKED BOOBS BASED ON LIFE EXPERIENCE IS ALWAYS FUNNIER
Eurotrip opens at number five and I have to admit these commercials got to me. They were funny. Too bad the movie isn’t. Well, it’s got those funny moments and a few more, but as a whole it fails. It has the easiest targets in the world (English hooligans, arrogant French, lecherous Italians) but still manages to miss more than it hits. When your big moment is the incestuous kiss, you know you’ve got problems. The reason this fails while even Old School and Road Trip worked is because those films had genuinely funny performers in them. People who could make even half-assed material work (something Seann William Scott is making his life’s work). This has none of that. Just three generic teens and Buffy’s little sister, a.k.a, Harriet the Spy. And while she could pass for hot (yes, I feel like a dirty, creepy old man looking at Harriet The Spy that way) on a show with the incredible shrinking Sarah Michelle Gellar and plain-faced Allyson Hannigan, here she suffers because the first girl you seen onscreen is the gorgeous Kristin Kreuk, who plays Lana Lang on Smallville. In fact, all the women in this movie suffer in comparison to her. It’s simply not good to have your hottest girl only in the film for five minutes. A smarter producer would have made her the female love interest, but seeing how that girl does nudity and Kristin had a body double simply for an underwear scene on Smallville, we know why it wasn’t her. Also, another thing missing from this that was in the great slob comedies of old was actual fucking experience. Animal House was based on actual college experiences, as was Caddyshack. You mean to tell me, not one person could find someone with funny European trip stories!?! Hell, I could make a few phone calls and get you some. Granted more than a few would be seriously x-rated (threesomes with rich German men in Paris), but that works too. Also, this need to have a warm, gooey center makes no sense. Especially when you eschew the PG-13 and go straight for the R rating like here. What’s your reward for this? Lots of naked breasts and believe it or not, penises. Yes, in a move uncharacteristic of Hollywood, the nude beach scene is filled with dangling, flaccid wieners. Oh, and stay for the credits to get all the laughs you can for your money.
AND THOSE TATTOOS ARE JUST PLAIN UGLY
Barbershop 2 drops to number six and has anyone suffered through the agony that is Eve? I tuned in just to see if they made most of having the bodacious Ali Landry in the cast (best known to you as “The Doritos Girl” she’s what Shania Twain would look like if she had a seriously smoking body). Eve is such a block of fucking wood I kept confusing her with pieces of the set. It’s awful.
IT’S WHAT HE LEARNED AT OMEGA HOUSE
Rising to number seven is Mystic River and how does Kevin Bacon feel watching the other two cast members get nominated, while he gets dick? Do you think he’s making anonymous phone calls to Academy members? “You’re not gonna vote for those two traitors are you? Remember Penn went to Bagdad before the war and if Robbins wins he’s going to make one of those anti-American speeches.” Neidermeyer would approve.
ALL I’M SAYING IS, THE LIZZIE MAGUIRE MOVIE DIDN’T OPEN AT NUMBER EIGHT
Against the Ropes opens at number eight and while I briefly considered this, I realized that if seeing if Meg Ryan’s carpet matched her drapes in In The Cut (they don’t) couldn’t get me into that, then listening to her try to do God’s second worst accent (Chicago; Boston is number one) sure as hell wasn’t going to get me in here. This is based on a true story, but I’m sure they aren’t going to include how she later accused the boxer of assault and I think he sued her. You know the same way the biker in Erin Brockovich later try to extort money from her and was arrested by the F.B.I. These are things no one wants to bring up. And I’m just not buying Omar Epps as a boxer. First he plays a basketball player and now a boxer. While it is feasible, because boxers come in all sizes, I’m still not feeling it from him. And any movie where Charles Dutton not only acts but directs cannot be good. Does anyone remember Roc on Fox? Of course not! You know why? ‘Cause it sucked, that’s why. It sucked so bad it couldn’t even be rerun on BET and they’ll run any fucking thing. And this is two films majorly tanking for Meg in less than a year’s time. She’s probably calling Tom Hanks even as we speak to make another bad romantic comedy with him. Either that or accept it’s time for you to start playing the mom for Hillary Duff.
YOU MEAN NO ONE SAW THE 2 1/1 HOUR MOVIE ABOUT MURDEROUS CHILDREN IN A SLUM?
The Butterfly Effect is down to number nine, while Lord of the Rings: Return of the King re-enters the top ten at number ten gearing up for its win at the Oscars next week. No, it wasn’t the best picture of the year (that honor goes to City of God, which wasn’t nominated) but it’s a damn sight better than fucking Seabiscuit, so it will win.
GUNGA GUNGA-LUNGA
So, my world has been bereft of star sightings recently, but finally something came through is and it was totally A-list. Also given that he’s a recluse between films, it’s actually quite impressive. Bill Murray at that same parking garage where I saw Chris Rock and Stanley Tucci. Yeah, baby. Not since I saw the Luthors have I been so pleased (yes, one day I saw John Glover, who plays Lex Luthor’s father, Lionel, on Smallville and another day I saw John Shea, played Lex Luthor on Lois & Clark).
AND DARKNESS FELL OVER THE LAND…
It’s the end of an era. St. Marks Pizza is no more. I’m no saying it was good, but damn, it was there since I was a freshman in college and we didn’t know any better. Besides, even bad pizza is good and it wasn’t bad. What’s wrong with the kids of today when they can’t keep a pizza shop in business? Then again, in my day there was no Starbucks in the East Village. Just drugs, artists and certain death after dark---unless you’re Keith Richards and no one would dare touch the guy keeping half the drug dealers flush. Also, in a blow struck near and dear to my heart, The Cheese Shop on 9th Avenue has closed down. Now it’s been there since I moved to Hell’s Kitchen and started to pack on the pounds. It reached its zenith when the staff was composed of an inordinate amount of hot girls. There was your tall, skinny, Slavic model type; your hot little Asian girl and your attractive blonde. For the first time I could pretend that something other than the cheese had given me the erection I constantly sported in the store. Granted, the selection and service had decreased over the last few years, but I kept hoping for a comeback. In vain it seem. They had the best Monterey Pepper Jack at one point. The milk used was different. Since then, all the others are like plastic to me. Sniff. I swore I wouldn’t cry…
THIS AIN’T YOUR DADDY’S CD COLLECTION---IT’S YOUR DADDY’S SAD FRIEND
So I opted to buy cd’s this time around rather than DVD’s (which are up to 284, not counting the porn) and picked up Damien Rice, Maroon 5, Amiel Larrieux and Kanye West, so I can pretend I’m not an old man. I’ve liked Maroon 5 since the first single “Harder To Breathe” but the follow up was good too, so I picked it up. It’s a solid album, but I’d like it more if the lead singer weren’t so obviously a jerk. Sorry, but he’s simply one of those guys who is a raging dick and would be so no matter what he was doing and it comes across in every move he makes. Dude, one album does not get you prick rights, especially with no number one hits. The Damien Rice purchase was long overdue and if you like stuff that screams “Irish Troubadour” then this is it. Heartfelt songs of love and heartbreak which, when listened under the influence of alcohol makes you weep. “Aye, there’s a good lad, Damien. Play us tune to make us weep into our whiskey and beer.” Amiel Larrieux is best known as the girl singer from Groove Theory who had one great, great single in “Tell Me.” Well, they couldn’t get along song she went solo and he keeps trying to replace her. Her solo work is similar, which means until Sade comes out with a new album, you can put it on to do your business along with your new Seal cd (which is better than its sales indicate). I keep hoping she’s got another “Tell Me” in her, but alas, it seems working with someone you hate is much more creative than someone you love (she now makes albums on her own label with her husband). Finally Kanye West is the new hot producer/performer of the moment (The Neptunes are so ‘03”). It’s just annoying to me. Too much about “his struggle.” Yeah, well who gives a fuck? Seriously. What makes you special? I hate 50 Cent, but at least he’s got that “shot 8 times” story. And Eminem is white trash. You, you’re just another brutha on the mike and there ain’t so shortage of them. Nothing special at all here (except that one track he does through a wired jaw). But having it makes my cd collection look hipper than it is, so I’ll keep it.
FINALLY AN ENEMY AGIAINST WHICH ALL THE IRISH CAN BE UNITED
A smoking ban in Ireland? Yeah, that’ll work. These are angry, armed drunks. Try telling them they can’t smoke in a fucking pub. I wouldn’t start my own car after that or open suspicious packages.
AND JUST LIKE BABY, I MAKE MY BLUE JEANS TALK. THEY SAY “FREE BALLS!”
So, I finally couldn’t take some of the weird jeans my sisters made me buy and went out and got some new ones. Sorry, but every time I fucking wore those Levis boot-cut, low-riding numbers I felt like a poser. An old poser at that. I needed something a little older. So this sent me looking for my old dependable type Levis, but sadly, it seems that Levis just doesn’t make a non “nut-crunching” jean. All the styles I tried on grabbed my balls. At least that’s how it looks. I maintain my balls are just bigger than normal (not the penis, just the balls), but I seem to be the only one with that opinion. I can’t respect myself and wear Old Navy jeans, Lee jeans are for rednecks and I refuse to have a house filled with only Gap jeans. This forced me to go against principle and go designer, so now I’m the proud owner of not just jeans from Ralph Lauren, but Kenneth Cole as well (after a quick call to my surrogate sister who vetoed the Calvin Kleins). They are non “nut-crunching” but neither do I look like some skate punk’s dad on laundry day, forced to wear his son’s clothing.
FUCKING JOHN?
So the former Miss Pretty Boy invites me to a party for the last episode for Sex & The City and before I can stop myself, I agree to go. The little man in my head who keeps me isolated is really falling down on the job. First, Round The Way Girl snags me last week and now this. It’s fitting, as I met Round The Way Girl through her and she showed up as well. The Former Miss Pretty Boy now lives down in what is technically still Manhattan, but it’s one of the places where all the streets have actual names rather than numbers so it doesn’t really count. It’s a nice place that she just renovated (to give all going through it still a little hope). The Former Miss Pretty Boy likes food the way I do, so there was no lack of it, and at least two more people brought cheesecake (one actually homemade). No martini’s though, which seems odd, but actually I never drank cosmos when I watched the show. I’m a girly drink drinker, but even I draw the line there. Sadly, out of the four men there, I was the only one making as much noise as the women during the episode, which is going to be thoroughly discussed with my therapist during my next session. One thing I really like about the Former Miss Pretty Boy is that all her female friends are either as attractive as she is or more so. That’s one cliché I like seeing brought to life as much as possible. Especially when they’re all sitting in the same room I am. The episode was a bit heavy-handed, but all-in-all it wasn’t bad. As always, the show ignores that Carrie chooses totally selfish, self-involved men and the pretends it’s not her fault when things go wrong. We even watched the pre-show clips collection and I was a bit dismayed to see that no one brought up that, in its heart, the show has always been about FOUR GAY MEN, but that would hardly have become the hottest show in America. Also, Patricia Field, the woman behind the wardrobes, worked with her then-girlfriend, Rebecca Field (her real name is Weinberg; she took Patricia’s name), but they broke up and Rebecca’s contribution to the show is pretty much being ignored. And no one brings up the total lack of contribution by Candace Bushnell, whose cold, cold book was the basis for the show. She was not-so-subtlety pushed away by the show’s creator Darren Star---whose minor incident of having a girl overdose in his hotel room was totally overlooked by American press (the oddest thing about that is that he’s gay). Not to mention his brother in the porn business. This is what we’re waiting on now; a tell-all book that dishes the dirt. Now that the series is over, it’s gotta come. Maybe Rebecca Field will write it.
SORRY, BUT STARSHIP’S “SARA” JUST DOESN’T STICK WITH ME THE SAME WAY
Barring some unforeseen developments, this will be the last word about “867-5309 (Jenny) (but I found a version by Blink 182 online). Okay, the last we heard some guy was auctioning off his number. Well, AT&T stepped in and informed him that it as not his number to sell. It was theirs. He could transfer it or give it up, but he couldn’t sell it and they shut the auction down. Given that Cingular, which has the “867-5309” commercial just bought AT&T Wireless, what are the odds you’re going to see the contest I mentioned last week pop up any day now. Now they don’t have to buy the number. It’s free with their takeover.
2/16/2004 “They gave me the star treatment
when I was making a lot of money, but I was just as good when I was poor.”
--- Bob Marley
LIKE THIS UGLY BASTARD COULD GET
ONE DATE WITHOUT MONEY
50 First Dates opens at number
one and what the fuck is wrong with you people to make this happen!?!
Adam Sandler is not funny. He’s just not funny. Yeah, he got lucky with
Happy Gilmore and I’ll even give up The Wedding Singer (which I was forced
to watch), but everything else has been complete and total crap. Even
his bullshit “art film” Punch Drunk Love was lousy, not to mention the
horror that was Anger Management. But that means nothing to you morons,
does it!?! Some fart jokes, some clumsy physical comedy and old people
acting sassy and you shitheads just hand your money over hand-over-fist!
Thank god there wasn’t a monkey in this or it would have broken a hundred
million! But a monkey might actually have been funny, so what would one
be doing in an Adam Sandler movie!?! And this was sold as a Valentine’s
Day film. What the fuck? Who sees this shit for Valentine’s Day, other
than a bunch of frat boy date rapists and their future victims? I can’t
believe no one else had a romantic comedy to push out so that it fell
to this crap alone. The plot about having to win a love over everyday
isn’t bad onto itself (if you can overlook neurological disorder as a
humorous plot point), but who the fuck wants Drew Barrymore for more than
one night, especially when she’s plus-sized the way she is in this movie.
She’s since lost 20 pounds, thus proving how full of shit she was when
she talked about being positive role model for young girls by not being
stick thin. But this goes right along with her bullshit about Charlie’s
Angels as female empowerment, but then turning on Demi Moore and blaming
her when that piece of shit flopped. The fact that the success of this
film actually helps her stop her downward slide (she hasn’t carried a
film since Ever After in 1998) only makes me hate it all the more.
“YOU KNOW I GOT A BAD REPUTATION…”
Barbershop is down to number two
and I prefer Ice Cube with a scowl. This touchy-feely neighborhood and
community crap just doesn’t fly with me. After all, this is the man who
first showed up yelling “Fuck the police” in a rap group called “Niggas
Wit Attitude.” Granted, he was never really a gangsta, coming from a stable
home and actually attending college to study architecture, but he plays
“Angry Black Man” very well. God knows it fits him better than those dumbass
glasses he’s wearing in this film, obviously designed to make him look
more mature. All they do is make him look like he’s wearing a very obvious
prop. I’d sooner watch Torque a second time than watch this even once.
But I’ll never watch Boyz N The Hood again. Sorry, but it sucked then
and it sucks now.
“HEY THERE LONELY GIRL…”
Miracle is down to number three
but who the hell cares? The Butterfly Effect, however, rises to number
four, which is a little impressive, but not totally unsurprising, as this
is, at it’s heart, a romantic movie. The plot is about a man going back
in time to save the woman he loves and trying time and time again until
he gets it right. A smarter marketing team would have played this up more,
especially for Valentine’s Day. But chances are, it was simply a bunch
of lonely girls looking at Ashton Kutcher’s pretty face forty feet high
because they didn’t have real dates. Don’t be too sad, girls. It’s not
a real holiday and it’s by far the most cynical. Take solace in the fact
that all that chocolate will be half price tomorrow. I know I will.
THE 90’S ARE OVER. GO AWAY NOW.
You Got Served holds at number
five and what the fuck is Lil’ Kim doing in this. Was Ashanti busy? Too
expensive? Still unaware that her time if up just as much as Lil’ Kim’s?
Sorry, but successful acts don’t do Old Navy commercials. That’s the joke
of the ads, that they’re populated with has-beens and never-were’s. Yeah,
she got lucky last year with a single with 50 Cent on it, but that’s about
as likely to happen again as 50 Cent is to have another hit. Oh, get over
it. You know it’s true. Ja Rule can’t buy a hit now, but two years ago
he was unstoppable. 50 Cent is right behind him. Soon, he’ll be back to
selling drugs and telling stories about how he used to fuck Vivica Fox…and
someone will say, “Who’s Vivica Fox?”
DIE, PRETENTIOUS INDIE FILM BOY!
DIE!
Catch That Kid is down to number
six and this was directed by Bart Freundlich, better known as Mr. Julianne
Moore and this is the beginning of the end of his directing career, not
that he was ever any good at it. He made a particularly annoying little
film called The Myth of Fingerprints that thoroughly wasted a cast composed
of Julianne Moore, Noah Wylie, Hope Davis, Blythe Danner and Roy Scheider.
Very pretentious shit, set like all pretentious WASP angst dramas, in
the dead of fucking winter where strangely no one has any modern devices.
It’s fucking Thanksgiving, but no one watches football. Oh, they go outside
to play football, but no one thinks to watch any. Ninety minutes of my
life I’ll never get back. Now he’s doing this and it’s tanking. Sorry,
but when you can’t make family films work, you’re doomed. Look for him
to be directing made-for-cable next, all the while claiming it was his
“choice” to do so.
YOU MEAN BEN STILLER ISN’T SYNONYMOUS
WITH ROMANCE?
Along Came Polly is down to number
seven and you’d think this would have gotten a nice Valentine’s Day push,
but no. What the fuck is up with the soulless marketing people of today?
Isn’t this their whole raison d’etre? To squeeze every dime possible out
of crap like this? Sigh. When I was a boy, soulless, really meant soulless.
THAT AND $2 WILL GET YOU ON THE
TRAIN
Lord of the Rings: Return of the
King is down to number eight and it made a sweep of the British version
of the Oscars, which means jack shit here. I’m sure it’s going to clean
up at the Science Fiction & Fantasy Film Awards too, but who with a girlfriend
actually gives a fuck about those awards? Then again, geeks get pissy
and might just give it to The Matrix Revolutions simply because all the
normal people hated it. As if nature didn’t isolate the fuckers enough.
NICOLE KIDMAN VS. SPICY SAUSAGE
Mystic River is down to number
nine, followed by Cold Mountain at number ten. Again, on this three day
weekend, I told myself I’d see this. I even checked times. But then I
lost myself in buying ingredients to make jambalaya. Now, before you get
all excited, it’s not real jambalaya. I’m not that fucking southern. No,
it’s from a mix where all you do is add meat. My mom makes it and that
makes it good enough for me. She actually had to send it to me from Georgia
because you can’t find it in Manhattan. Brooklyn? Sure, but not here and
I’m not going to Brooklyn just for this. In any case, because I’m getting
old and can’t taste anything any more, I need it extra spicy, which I
why I used hot smoked sausage, diced tomatoes with jalapeño and then I
diced up some bell pepper to top it off. Now that’s good eatin’. My point
here being, this held my attention more than going to see Cold Mountain.
Now, I need to see it, so someone out there needs to step up and drag
me. Which of you sorry Adam Sandler loving sons of bitches (or straight
bitches) is gonna try and make me? Aw, come on. I gotta see this before
Oscar night.
YOU WANT REALLY FUNNY? LET HIM
START TALKING ABOUT PRINCE.
While The David Chapelle Show
is already better in the first two episodes than it was last season, it
sadly added the musical acts back in on the second episode. But all is
forgiven with the third. The third episode had to be some of the most
brilliant comedy I’ve seen on TV in a long time. The entire episode was
Charles Murphy, Eddie Murphy’s brother telling the story about how he’s
had to kick Rick James’ ass over the last 15 years. I shit you not. Only
one sketch to open the show up and then it was all Charles Murphy. Oh,
and Rick James. Not just David Chapelle as Rick James in hysterical “dramatizations”
but the actual, almost unrecognizable Rick James telling his side of the
story, which simply amounted to “Cocaine is a helluva drug.” In other
words, everything Charles Murphy said was true. You won’t see anything
funnier on TV this year. I guarantee it. Now, if we could just stop the
musical portion of the show... Not to mention the over dependence on race
humor. In his stand up, race jokes were part of the act, but they didn’t
dominate the way they do here.
JENNY…THE SAGA CONTINUES
Okay, so cellular number 867-5307
is on eBay for sale, so it’s not just me who is fixated on that damn song.
I read about this fucking auction in the paper and they specifically mentioned
“Gen Xers” of which I am one. And as much as it’s trapped in my head,
at least I’m not spending money on it. Unlike these people. Here’s where
the bidding is now: http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=3077991790&category=1503.
And that's just the New York auction. There's also one in San Francisco.
I can’t believe Cingular isn’t trying to buy it so they can offer it in
a contest to promote their company. Somewhere, Tommy Tutone is smiling.
Twenty years later and that song is still making him money hand over fist.
His kids are going to best colleges money can buy.
WE’RE DRINKING MY FRIEND
So, I was dragged out for another
night of drinking by Around The Way Girl. I knew she’d call given that
Monday was a holiday, but I’d planned to be doing something so I could
refuse. We wound up at a bar I’d sworn never to patronize: The 10th Avenue
lounge. Sorry, but a doorman dressed in black for a stupid bar almost
no one knows about is just too much for me. I prefer to go next door to
Rufus, with the jukebox so you can inflict your drunken music choices
on the world. In any case we wound up there for a few hours and my old
joke about every bar in Manhattan being defacto gay bars came back to
haunt me as Around The Way Girl was convinced we were e the only straight
people there. “Not so,” I replied. “If this really were a gay bar, the
music would be better.” In any case, I wound up home drunk around 1 am
and the worst thing about being drunk is your inability to accomplish
even the most basic tasks. Not good when you’re trying to go to the bathroom.
That activity took twice as long as it should have. Also, I became much
more emotionally involved in the episode of Sex & The City that I’d taped.
Sorry, but no one plays emotionally hurt better than Sara Jessica Parker.
She draws you in almost instantly, no matter how stupid it is. But while
I love her dearly, sometimes she just so looks like a man in drag it’s
painful.
JANENE GARAFALO USED TO BE FUNNY
So, I have two friends I have
a certain amount of respect for telling me to watch the Ellen Degeneres
stand-up show on HBO. I did. I no longer have respect for these friends.
It wasn’t funny. Mildly humorous, sure. Whimsical, definitely. But funny?
Hell no. I’m sorry, but any comedian in the world still using that joke
about newshows telling you “Death and destruction…at 11:00,” is one sorry
comedian. That first came up in Kentucky Fried Movie almost thirty years
ago. What next? What part of the chicken does the McNugget come from?
She gonna use that joke next. While I still think she was cheated out
of an Academy Award nomination for Finding Nemo (which was cheated out
of a Best Picture nomination for fucking Seabiscuit), her stand up is
as lame as her sitcom was. And it’s really sad because it confirms the
stereotype that women aren’t funny. It’s like watching a show about a
Black guy who steals of a drunk Irish guy. But I will say this, she’s
got pretty good rhythm for blonde lesbian. At the end of the show she
dances and sings along to “Shoop” by Salt ‘n Pepa, which she did at the
VH1 Divas Las Vegas show. It was funny then, but not so much now, but
she can swing her ass to it pretty well. And here I thought it was just
that gay men could dance. It’s everyone it seems.
THE WHITE BIKNI. THE GREATEST
INVENTION SINCE NUDITY
Melissa Keller has an ugly body.
That normally wouldn’t mean anything except for the fact that she’s a
fucking swimsuit model. Yes, for some godforsaken reason I actually watched
the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue show on the channel for frat boy
losers, Spike TV. Oddly enough, I only really enjoy the swimsuit issue
because of women. No, not the women in it, but the women around me who
would love to see it. Now, without those women around the issue arrived
without me even noticing. Actually, did anyone even notice? There used
to be more fanfare about this, no? In any case, the previously mentioned
no-named model wasn’t the only one. Most of the women shown had lousy
bodies. Now, I’m not going to pretend that a skinny woman with breasts
isn’t attractive, but the lack of an appropriate hip-to-waist ratio is
a horrendous flaw, not to mention the complete and utter lack of an ass.
It’s just sad. These women are straight freaking lines. Pretty faces,
yes, but that’s it. These women have their jobs because they are supposed
to be physically perfect and they are so far from it that it hurts. And
now that Anna Kornikova is retired from tennis, how about someone break
the news to her that she’s ugly? Only in comparison to other tennis players
was she even remotely attractive. Out here in the real world, she’s just
another hatchet-faced girl getting by on being tall, slim and blonde.
I mean, no one is pretending the Williams’ sisters are any sort of great
beauties. The only worthwhile portion of the show was the reunion of their
greatest models, featuring Paulina, Elle McPherson, Vendela, Christie
Brinkley, Roshumba (getting by on the race card), Rachel Hunter, Trya
Banks, Hedi Klum and the woman who rocked my adolescent world back in
the 70’s when she appeared in a white bathing suit that became transparent
when wet, Cheryl Tiegs. I’ve love Cheryl Tiegs since then because she
always had an air of total and undeniable bitchiness about her. Even in
the reunion, you could tell she thought she was better than everyone else
there---and I loved it! Needless to say, time had made its presence known
on the older models, with the possible exception of Paulina Poritskova,
who even after kids looks better than she did in 80’s. Rick Ocasek is
a lucky, lucky man.
2/7/2004 “Should we all confess our sins to one another we would all laugh
at one another for lack of originality.” --- Kahil Gibran
ALL I’M SAYING IS THAT IT’S NO CAR WASH Barbershop 2 opens at number one this week and I didn’t see the first Barbershop and will obviously never see this one either. First, I haven’t been to this type of barbershop since I was a teenager and don’t have so many fond memories of it that I would seek it out (but I have to say, anything that pisses off the lame, hypocritical, self-appointed “leaders” of the Black community is okay by me). Secondly, at this stage of the game, is there anything more heavy-handed and lame than the inclusion of Queen Latifah in just about anything where she isn’t the star? It’s obviously nothing but a cheap selling gimmick for them and a long commercial for her own project, Beauty Shop. And you can tell this film is about nothing but sequel cash, as the commercials don’t hint at anything even resembling a plot or character development; just more of what you liked in the first, which specifically means Cedric The Entertainer saying the most politically incorrect things possible. RAH-RAH-RAH, YEAH, YEAH, YEAH Miracle opens at number two and I could give a fuck. I don’t like hockey and could have cared less if the Russians won or lost, even at the height of the Cold War. First I’m from the south. We didn’t play ice hockey and the fact we even had a hockey team (the Atlanta Flames then, the Thrashers now) was odd to me. Second, I’m Black. ‘Nuff said. You won’t find too many bruthas in the colder sports. Or the water sports. Or on horses. Or climbing mountains. Or legally racing. Or… In any case, patriotic Cinderella stories also bother that part of me that’s slightly to the left of center. Too much “feel good” even when it’s genuine just strikes me as a tad creepy. It just gives way to fascism a bit too easily for me. CLOTHES MAKE THE MAN…LOOK STUPID
You Got Served is down to number three and while I find Steve Harvey’s
stand-up very funny, he is otherwise an annoying person who doesn’t seem
to understand he’s just a middle aged man whose non-funny opinions don’t
really matter. Your first clue comes in his stand-up, where like most
old people, he complains about modern music then plays the kind of old
school shit my parents like to dance to after a few drinks late at night.
Then came his attempt to mediate the “East Coast/West Coast” rap war.
Do these people realize it was not a real war? That it was a bunch
of fucking entertainers? He acted like he was Carter in the Middle East.
Finally, his show was canceled with no small amount of rancor, but there
he is with a new show on the WB because they obviously wrote him a check
big enough to soothe his precious ego. Now, he’s got the worst and most
ridiculous lines in this movie. “This ain’t just a prize to these boys.
It’s something more than that.” Uh, shouldn’t the adult be the one
pointing out to the kids that this is nothing worth getting too upset
over? Perhaps using humor to make his point? But most of all, I dislike
Steve Harvey because he made those ugly suits that most middle-aged Black
men now wear socially acceptable. At last year’s Grammys Nelly actually
said with pride that the ugly ass suit he was wearing was a result of
being sent to Steve Harvey’s tailor. Those neo-zoot suits in candy colors
are nothing to be proud of. You can’t get a bank loan in them. You can’t
meet the president in one. It’s embarrassing.
DO YOU THINK HE WOULD TALK LIKE APU DURING SEX? Along Came Polly is down to number four and Hank Azaria, who has a certain amount of immunity here because he has been one of the voices of the Simpsons (Apu, Moe, Chief Wiggum, Lou, etc.), must either be a peace with himself or eternally frustrated to never quite breaking through. Eight years ago, The Birdcage made him hot with his scene stealing role as a houseboy, but since then it’s been either replaying that role (heavily accented guy here and also in America’s Sweethearts) or playing foil to the actual leading man (Russell Crowe, Ethan Hawke). Oh, and Mr. Helen Hunt. That was his other big role. Again, she was A-list, but he was not---except in the hearts of Simpsons’ fans everywhere. GET AT ME, GEEKS! GET AT ME! The Butterfly Effect is down to number five and I went to Moviepooper.com to get the ending to this and it turns out I was right about it. I’m old school science fiction, baby! You ain’t got nothing new to show me! Nothing! LOST IN TRANSLATION Catch That Kid opens at number six and is a remake of a Foreign film which has no doubt been destroyed in the translation by Hollywood over-production. Just by watching the trailers you can see this is less about characters and more about “I Was A Teenage Ocean’s 11.” This only works if it’s cute and nothing about the trailer suggested cute. BUT HONESTLY, FAT GUYS CAN’T BE HEROES. IT’S A RULE. Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King is down to number seven and Sean Astin is getting a little notice as being the unsung hero of the three films and I have to go along with that, because anyone who could put up with the whiney-ass Frodo is a hero to me. Granted, he’s so obviously in love with Frodo that it hurts, but still… And do you think he and Brendan Fraser still keep in touch since their days on Encino Man? I mean, it’s pretty certain neither of them is talking to Pauley Shore. AND NUDITY DOESN’T HURT EITHER (FIVE OUT OF THE LAST TEN) Mystic River rises to number eight, while Monster enters the top ten at number nine, and the basic rules of Oscar will never change: if you’re pretty, play ugly. Not to mention the new one: go indie (six out of the last nine Best Actress winners came from indie film). Charlize Theron was never a bad actress; just a decent one with a lousy agent (rule for the future: no more movies with Keanu). Either she dumped that one or he grew some brains for her to do Monster. Now, this is pretty much her Oscar to lose (though I’m predicting a surprise upset by Naomi Watts) and she’s going to do just that if she makes more stupid comments like the one in New York magazine where she takes a cheap shot at Halle Berry for doing a Bond film after winning an Oscar. Here’s a little info for your dumbass: she was already shooting the Bond film when the news of her nomination came, so it was hardly a post-Oscar move. For this and this alone I would love for the little girl to win, but there’s no way that’s going to happen. But hey, she’s got a few weeks more to keep making these types of mistakes, so anything can happen. HEY, THAT’S A NICE NAP I’M ABLE TO TAKE Cold Mountain drops to number ten and again, I meant to see this over the weekend and again I found something better to do with my time. LITTLE RIVER BAND. THERE’S ANOTHER I’D NEVER PAY FOR. You know what keeps illegal downloading going? I mean, aside from the fact that it’s free? Bad songs we love. Songs we’ll play in the car and sing along to at the top of our lungs, but only when alone---and the windows up. It’s the shit we’d never, ever pay for, but enjoy with every fiber of out being when it pops up. Shit, I wouldn’t have Steve Perry’s solo album or Journey’s greatest hits if downloading had been around ten years ago. But we’d all forget about them if not for those annoying compilation commercials that come on TV at 2:00am. There’s no other reason I’d be downloading Toad The Wet Sprocket at 2:01am. None. And what the fuck is this “Greatest Irish Bands Collection” bullshit? That’s like a collection of “greatest English bands.” Isn’t every other good band from fucking Ireland? And in my defense of remembering how to play “867-5309 (Jenny)” but forgetting out to play “We Can Work It Out” (my instructor actually taught my playing the Stevie Wonder version which kicks so much ass); well “We Can Work It Out” isn’t featured in not one, but two commercials currently running on TV. First is that Cingular ad and the other is that Snickers ad. See, it’s not just me! If you came of age in the 80’s that song is in your fucking DNA like “Hungry Like The Wolf” or “Do You Really Want To Hurt Me.” WHAT’S WEIRD IS THAT TECHNICALLY I CAN ACTUALLY READ MUSIC Speaking of learning songs, since I stopped my guitar lessons last week I’ve begun giving way to total laziness in learning new ones. No longer will I torture myself with my bass listening to a song over and over again to learn the chords. Now, I simply buy an issue of Acoustic Guitar and there are the chords to Outkast’s “Hey Ya” (very, very easy) and The Beatles “If I Fell” (also easy and it brings me up to 13). Even easier and cheaper is to run into Colony Records and look at the song books there. I almost bought the Schoolhouse Rock book but it only had ten songs in it. Besides, one of my favorites “3 Is a Magic Number” is only two chords, so I saw them and walked out. Now, if they’d had “Figure 8” in there and “Verb” I would have bought it on the spot. BECAUSE I’M SO LAZY I DON’T EVEN WANT TO CREATE MY OWN FANTASIES Okay, Penthouse magazine is in trouble to the point where Bob Guccione is about to lose his house. Now, I could care less about Guccione or Penthouse, but ironically do care about something that wouldn’t exist without the both of them: Penthouse Letters. Sometime years ago, someone realized that these snippets of fiction were the best part of the magazine and made it into a separate entity. This made me very happy, ‘cause I loved them, but wasn’t about to fill my closet with fucking Penthouse (which became all the more unlikable when it went hardcore a few years ago and added pictures of women urinating). And asking if they’re real letters, is like asking “is wrestling real?” It’s pretty much telling me you’re a moron. I once saw one of the writers on cable access describing the guidelines to writing the Penthouse Letters and her simple presence confirmed something I’d always suspected: there are quite a few women writers. Too many letters about men who seemingly love to watch their wives screw other men was the first clue. The second clue was how those men wound up being bisexual themselves. No straight guy is writing that. APPARENTLY COURTNEY LOVE HAS THE ONLY BALLS IN ROCK Okay, what’s with this pussy apologetic response to the Janet Jackson breast incident? Aren’t rappers and rock stars supposed to be offending and upsetting the public on a regular basis? Why does it fall to a freaking pop star to do it? And why hasn’t anyone stood up and said “fuck you” to the NFL, CBS and all these other assholes!? Musicians are supposed to be subversive, goddamnit! Hiring MTV to do your halftime show and then complaining about content is like hiring a stripper for your kid’s birthday party and then complaining about them seeing ass. I normally hate the whole “it’s different in Europe” idea, because the same Europeans who don’t look twice at a breast are the same Europeans who think it’s okay to fuck girls at 12 simply because they have them, but if someone flashed a boob at The World Cup, I hardly think a single government in Europe would form a federal committee to look at indecency on TV. And notice how the million commercials about how to keep your dick hard when you get older didn’t seem to phase them. So is it that they paid for their time that makes it okay? If Janet paid to show her tit would she be okay? Or is it simply female sexuality that makes them shit bricks? I mean, female sexuality that’s not on the sideline in short-shorts shaking pom-poms. And I’ll say it again: there’s no such thing as bad publicity. This kind of coverage would cost millions of dollars and Janet is getting it for free. Very important when you’re pushing forty and competing for the same market as 20-year-olds. Before this, who gave a shit about her upcoming album except for her fans? And what kind of fucking pussy is Justin Timberlake? “I’m so sorry. She tricked me.” If this is the extent of his manhood, no wonder Britney had to look elsewhere for dick. It also explains that whiny “Cry Me A River” video and why he still bitches about her in concert. Be a man and get the fuck over it. You’re banging a movie star (albeit a hipless, assless one with bad skin) and trip over more pussy on the way to the tour bus than most of us will see in a lifetime, so stop complaining about this one girl.
HUEY LEWIS HAS MORE GRAMMYS THAN PAUL MCCARTNEY
I really haven’t given a shit about the Grammys since Phil Collins
beat Sinead O’Connor back in the 80’s, but I try to catch as many of the
musical performances as I can, because they can be interesting. Moby with
Jill Scott comes to mind…there’s no point in a Grammy red carpet because
musicians as a rule usually dress like shit…I love Fountains of Wayne,
but they are not an attractive group of guys by any stretch of the imagination…Sting’s
daughter is very pretty and actually has his smile, but thankfully not
his original potato nose…and the Kevin Costner jokes continue, which delights
me to no end…opening with Prince. Before he gave into his ego and craziness,
he was simply the best out there. But then he stopped growing as an artist
and spent most of his time bitching about rap and hip-hop like an old
man. But notice the songs he’s singing ARE 20 YEARS OLD! I’m his
fan and if I’m old, you know he’s old…do I need to hear Dave Matthews
pissing on the Beatles? But Pharell Williams on the drums is cute. Bear
in mind the Grammys never gave The Beatles an award. Oh the irony…when
is Christina Aguilera going to give it up? Sing “Beautiful” a million
times, but you’ll always be number two. Number three if you count Beyonce.
I’m going back to The Simpsons…Simpsons is over and I turn to see White
Stripes playing “Seven Nation Army” again. I still think it needs a fucking
bass…Andre3000 just saying “thank you.” That alone was worth watching…So
pussy boy Timberlake got a Grammy. Still won’t give you balls, though.
And he apologized again! What a pussy!…Alicia Keys cannot sing “A House
Is Not A Home” Her voice is simply not up to it. Stay out of the deep
end of the pool, baby. Celine Dion is coming up and thank god Sex & The
City is on now…I hate the Black-Eyed Peas with a passion. Being up there
with Pussyboy didn’t improve my opinion any…I go to Arrested Development
and come back to see Beyonce singing again. Geez, when was the last time
she had a vacation?…okay, just how was Fountains of Wayne up for Best
New Artist when this is their third album?…Samuel L. Jackson saying funk
the way it’s supposed to said “faunk.” It’s good to see Maurice White
up and about, but considering how balding he was back in the 70’s just
who is that ugly rug for? But since he almost died, we’re going to let
his vocal limitations slide. Phillip Bailey continues to expand exponentially
and needs to accept that certain notes are now beyond him now. Only now
do I realize that the hook from “I Like The Way You Move” does sound like
an Earth, Wind and Fire sample, so this hook-up makes sense…Push Robert
Randolph all you want, but it the public will simply not bite…And these
all-star jams are great in theory, but very boring in execution. Seven
guitars playing the same chords doesn’t suddenly make a song better. And
George Clinton looks and sounds like the crackhead he is…I like Sarah
McLachlan’s voice so much, she can sing damn near anything and I’ll listen.
Last week I downloaded her doing “Rainbow Connection.”…Warren Zevon won
because he died. Period…I thought Andy Williams was dead. I was close…Michael
McDonald should have warmed up before trying to sing the great “What A
Fool Believes” ‘cause he sounded awful. And what’s with that red vest?
Was he going to a prom?…Warren Zevon gets an Grammy for dying and Luther
gets one for almost dying. Richard Marx is a no talent hack and I thought
him and his big hair disappeared in the 80’s…what I love about Andre 3000
is that every time he does this song he’s dressed differently…finally
no dead or dying guys stop Outkast from winning their Grammy for Album
of the Year and bringing everyone they ever met onstage with them.
2/2/2004 “How can I lose to such an idiot?”--- A shout from chessmaster
Aaron Nimzovich
YOU GOT SERVED 2: ELECTRIC BUGALOO
Opening at number one---because every generation apparently deserves
its own Breakin’---is You Got Served. I’m sorry, I know it means I’m an
old man, but trying to create drama about a street dancing contest is
just a million degrees of stupid to me. It’s fucking street dancing! It
means nothing to anyone not doing it. It’s not like these kids are competing
in a real dance contest that can result in a scholarship. Even Honey (trying
to be this generation’s Flashdance) acknowledged that she had a background
in formal dance training. They should have taken a card from Bring It
On, which knew better than to take its silly activity too seriously, while
acknowledging that the participants do and respecting that somewhat. What
gets me is that even in the trailer you can see a “slow-motion-dancing-in-the-rain”
training sequence like this is fucking Rocky! Set, no doubt, to an obvious
ballad, sung earnestly and poorly: “Working hard for your dream/Only
you know what it meeeeeeeans/So dance, dance dance…” I wouldn’t be
surprised to find that, in the climatic dance-off, someone has an injury
and has to pop and lock his way through the pain to victory! With a tearful
girl standing on the sidelines no less! The now defunct and always lame
B2K (considering their name was based on the year 2000, their dissolution
is about four years overdue) play the good guy team facing off against
what appear to be the baddest white boys this side of Hall & Oates. Isn’t
a bit racist, considering we know B2K will win in the end? Doesn’t it
reinforce the stereotype of White men not being able to dance as well
as Black men. Imagine if someone made a movie about a Black golf team
ultimately losing to a White team. Oh, you’d never hear the end of complaints
about that.
FORTUNATELY, WE NEED NOT FEAR A STEPHEN BADLWIN COMEBACK Along Came Polly is down to number two and this is the year of Alec Baldwin in the supporting role, thus bringing him a full circle from his beginning in the 80’s when he had supporting roles in Working Girl, Married To The Mob and She’s Having A Baby. He and James Spader seemingly had a competition as to who could play the most supporting role bastards (Spader had Pretty In Pink, Mannequin, Baby Boom and Less Than Zero). For Baldwin it’s been Cat In The Hat, his Oscar nominated turn in The Cooler and this. This, of course, will lead to a return to leading man status---which he will then piss away on big budget crap. THE JOHNNY DEPP SYNDROME The Butterfly Effect is down to number three and it’s always distracting to me when the male lead is prettier than the female lead, and between Ashton Kutcher and Amy Smart there is virtually no competition. That she and the even more pug-faced James King continue to work is beyond me. Apparently all you really need to be is blonde. GEEKOLOGY 101 The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King is down to number four and there’s been some mention in the press of this being a “guy” film. Please. This is the geek holy grail and as any visit to a renaissance fair will show you, they come in both genders. Especially when it comes to fantasy. For some reason, chicks (though obviously not attractive ones) can get into elves and fairies and magic the way they can’t get into aliens and space ships laser guns. I’d think about the implications of that---if I gave a shit. IT COULD BE WORSE; HE COULD ALSO BE A JIVE-TALKING SCAM ARTIST The Perfect Score opens at number five and isn’t it a bit late to be pushing a movie about this? Shouldn’t this have come out back in the fall, when the kids really had to go through this shit? Now is when you’re re-taking it because your scores sucked. Trust me on this. And I’m just going to be a little bit offended that the Black guy in this is the basketball player. Not even the lead guy’s sidekick. No, he’s the basketball player. I guess having the Asian guy as a stoner WHO ACTUALLY GETS LAID was all the stereotype breaking (though he was still a math wiz) the producers could handle before running back to the safety of bruthas playing hoops. And you’d think with Scarlett Johansson’s new high profile she’d be pushed more as the star of this movie whether she is or not. WHEN YOU’RE A STAR, YOU’RE NUDE; OTHERWISE YOU’RE NAKED Big Fish is down to number six, followed by Cold Mountain at number seven and recently my buddy, O.G. (Original Geek) sent me a picture of Nicole Kidman completely nude. Sorry, but Nicole Kidman is one of those actors who is almost always naked in a film. From the very beginning she’s showing the world she’s a real redhead. There was actually some minor controversy about Billy Bathgate, when she became the first person to show pubic hair in what was technically a Disney film (under the Touchstone banner). Hell, thanks to my new favorite website www.archivodefamosas.com, (the most complete female celebrity nude site ever) I can see there’s even a minor boob shot in Cold Mountain. Like Helen Mirren, you’d be better off listing the films where she’s not naked. Not that I’m complaining. Tom Cruise aside, I’ve always liked Nicole Kidman, especially when she plays evil, like in Malice and To Die For. But given that she’s a redhead, she’s probably not acting. THOUGH I LOVED, LOVED, LOVED STREETS OF FIRE Win A Date With Tad Hamilton is down to number eight and it may be that news of Josh Duhamel’s stardom were greatly exaggerated. Sorry, but for every George Clooney and Denzel Washington who makes it, there are a million Michael Pares and Richard Griecos who don’t. Sorry, but just as it takes more than big boobs and a pretty smile, it also takes more than being tall and good looking to make it. THE END Mystic River is down to number nine, followed by Cheaper By The Dozen, closing out the top ten at number ten. HELL, JUST REMOVING A BRA CAN TOPPLE YOUR AVERAGE GOVERNMENT Not breaking the top ten and not really deserving to is The Big Bounce (“bounce” is the “thrill”), and I went to see this because I’ve enjoyed all the recent adaptations of Elmore Leonard’s novels with the exception of Quentin Tarantino’s Jackie Brown (where he didn’t so adapt the book as he did revisit all his favorite film fetishes in the guise of adapting the book). I also love “Karen Sisqo” the TV spin-off from Out of Sight. But there’s one thing the movies I love have in common: Danny DeVito. Or should I say, Danny DeVito’s production company of Jersey Films. They did Get Shorty, Out of Sight and Karen Sisqo. They didn’t do Jackie Brown or The Big Bounce, so guess how it turned out? It’s not that The Big Bounce is awful, it’s just not that good and it doesn’t help that Owen Wilson is the leading man. In the roster of lovable con men it’s gone from John Travolta, George Clooney to…Owen Wilson? And could Owen Wilson do anything other that this dumbass persona he always does? They showed trailers for Starsky & Hutch before this and he acts exactly the same. Which was the same shtick he did in Shanghai Noon and even in Behind Enemy Lines. And let me tell you something, it doesn’t suddenly get more endearing. I swear, if he didn’t co-write Rushmore, I’d wish death on him. Also, it’s movies like this that make you realize the difference between a good director and a lame one who just points and shoots. Get Shorty was Barry Sonnenfeld, Out of Sight was Steve Soderbergh. Here we have…George Armitage? Granted, Grosse Point Blank was fun, but obviously he just got lucky there with the writing (the screenwriter of Gothika is at work here). This story just kind of meanders about before suddenly turning into a movie about cold-blooded con artists. It’s as though they were all enjoying the Hawaii shoot and then realized, “Oh, shit! We have to make a movie!” and slapped something together on the last day. A waste of the talents of Morgan Freeman, Bebe Neuwirth (who unfortunately suffers when you see her 40-something visage after an hour of the taut young blonde in a bikini), Gary Sinese and yes, even Willie Nelson. Charlie Sheen has no real talents to waste and it must hurt knowing that a lead role like this would have been his a few years ago, but now he’s the dweeb you laugh at instead. And given that she’s just eye candy, Sara Foster does her job well enough (but couldn’t they find a girl with an actual ass to play this role?). She adequately fulfills the role of a girl you can’t trust, but follow after anyway. And the scene where she convinces Own Wilson to go along with her even though he knows it’s a mistake by removing her panties is just too true. How women don’t run the world when that’s all any of you need to do is beyond me.
“A LITTLE VOICE INSIDE MY HEAD SAID ‘DON’T LOOK BACK, YOU SHOULD NEVER
LOOK BACK’”
So, we got our second week of Bands Reunited and it wasn’t nearly as good. Why? Because who the fuck was Dramarama and who cares if they got back together? Now, I had a mild interest in Extreme, but once you saw the run time was only half an hour rather than the regular hour, you knew how it would end. Now, while I’ve got a certain amount of respect for Nuno Bettencourt as a guitar player, and they really did fuck up by ambushing him at lunch (why they haven’t been shot yet is beyond me), but just what the fuck else has he got going on? Extreme was a pussy metal-lite band in the Bon Jovi mold with delusions of grandeur. Just get onstage and do “More Than Words” so we can all go home (though personally, the song I liked was “Rest In Peace”). And The Alarm were always just a low-rent U2 (they even opened for U2 at one point). Who gives a crap about them either? Now, Kajagoogoo we can get into. “Too Shy” has one of the smoothest bass lines ever and was one of the best singles of the 80’s. But there wasn’t much drama to their reunion. The bass player---with a stud in his nose even in his 40s---was obviously chomping at the bit to reunite and was aiding VH1 is getting all his old bandmates back together. It was pretty much a given. But when I saw that Squeeze was only half-an-hour, it broke my heart, because this is one of the greatest pop bands, ever. As always, they leave out little things like the fact that one of the reasons is that founder Chris Difford had to leave WAS HIS ALCOHOLISM! Not to mention Squeeze broke up originally in the early 80’s (their greatest hits came out in ’82) but reunited in ’85 and members would come and go (at one point Amiee Mann played with them when she toured with them) before that final break in ’96. And you knew immediately from his tone that Jools Holland wasn’t going to come back. In Squeeze he wasn’t the star and he clearly likes being the star. In fact, by his tone when mentioning him, Glen Tillbrook was probably dissuaded from reuniting purely because of Jools Holland (who had a nice single hit called “Steady” that few but me remember). Also, even though he wasn’t an original member, how could you not ask Paul Carrack to join up!?! That’s like not asking Michael McDonald to join a Doobie Brothers reunion because he wasn’t an original member. He not only replaced Jools Holland, but sang the soulful lead on “Tempted” one of their biggest hits. So, in fact, you don’t fucking need Jools Holland. Hell, their biggest hit was the poorly remembered “Hourglass” and he wasn’t even around for that either. THE DAY THE MUSIC DIED So, due to financial concerns, I’ve had to shelve the guitar lessons for awhile. Also, I’d reached kind of a plateau in my learning. Recently, I would go there and watch the clock, planning the rest of my day---which, on a Saturday, was usually go back to sleep then get up and run a few errands, but still, it was a sign a break was needed. When I started, I told him my goal was to play a Beatles song before I died. In our two years together I’ve learned 12: “All My Loving” “Do You Want To Know A Secret” “Ticket To Ride” “Norwegian Wood” “In My Life” “We Can Work it Out” “Across The Universe” “I’m Only Sleeping” “Yesterday” “A Day In The Life” “Come Together” “Something.” Now, bear in mind I also learned basic physics in high school, but try quizzing me on it now. I think I can actually play two of those twelve songs. Maybe. I blame television for my inability to retain memory. But, of course, I retain full memory of how to play Tommy Twotone’s “867-5309 (Jenny).” Sigh. No room in my head for John Lennon, but plenty for that. AND I TOTALLY FORGOT ABOUT THE LINGERIE BOWL What’s the Super Bowl really about? Commercials, that’s what. But given how it’s usually a blowout, it kinda has to be…that pre-game show was crap. Aerosmith is running on fumes and who gives a shit about country music…The Muppets with Jessica Simpson makes an odd kind of sense if you ask me. Insert your own puppet or fist-up-the-ass joke here…sorry, but even a home decorating, Bath & Bodyworks loving geek like me gets wood at the sight of that Ford GT barreling around a race track…the ball-biting beer commercial did make me laugh, but I’ll never buy that beer…the FedEx alien commercial was a waste of special effects…monkeys are always funny, something the people behind that Dodge commercial obviously understand. You can never go wrong with monkeys. Notice how unfunny the Pepsi commercial with bears was. Monkeys. Always monkeys…Van Helsing is yet another Hugh Jackman shot at the leading man brass ring. I don’t understand. If he fights Dracula, Frankenstein’s Monster (FOR THE LAST FUCKING TIME: THE DOCTOR IS FRANKENSTEIN AND THE MONSTER HAD NO NAME) and the Wolfman in the first film, who’s he going to fight in the sequel? And I don’t think there was quite enough CGI on display. Some of the snow looked real…I’m still pissed there are no gods involved in Troy…how long is Willie Nelson going to milk his IRS troubles? Do kids today even get it?…Okay, so they’re tying erectile dysfunction to baseball? Now, I have no love of baseball, but it’s played with BATS and BALLS. How much more phallocentric can you get? And what kind of man endorses a product designed for men who can’t get it up anyway?…believe it or not, I actually felt a modicum of guilt about free downloading---until they started busting people for it. Bear in mind these are the same fuckers who have been overcharging on CD’s for the last 16 years and had to be told by the federal government to stop. Not that they did. No, it took a massive loss in sales to make that happen…the horse farting commercial is just disgusting. How does that make you want to drink beer?…Hey, an interesting football game actually erupted in the middle of all these commercials. But just as it gets interesting, it’s half-time. Gee, think Janet is lip-syching? Okay, why does a rap need to be lip-synched? So basically, everyone is coming out and doing a hit. Gee. How exciting. Can we get back to the game? I’ve got to watch Sex & The City at nine. Okay, the Justin Timberlake performance did make me perk up a bit, as he was singing, though to a track. But you know the old school Super Bowl people didn’t appreciate seeing Janet’s boob, even if there was a tassel on her nipple…my biggest laugh so far is the NFL spot with all the players not in the Super Bowl…ooh, a monkey in the beer ad! Now, that’s funny!…the Staples “Godfather” ad was funny too…As always, the Simpsons never fail…with the exception the continual mining of Hendrix’s grave, I don’t remember the other ads. See, I got caught up in the game. I went with the underdog and so left disappointed. What the fuck was his problem going for the two point conversion both fucking times!?!…Finally, I don’t know if I missed it or if it didn’t air, but I went to the UK Pepsi site to see the much hyped Britney, Beyonce, Pink gladiatrix commercial set to “We Will Rock You.” Beyonce by far gets the most screen time and gets to sing the second verse (Britney warbles out the first in that hiccup whisper of a voice), while Pink gets the only spoken words. Brian May and show up in the video as members of the crowd, cheering on the concept of getting more money for doing absolutely nothing. Also in the video is Enrique “No One Knows I’m Bald” Eglesias. Why? ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST AND OTHERS NIBBLE ON SAND Finally, our death count continues as Jack Paar, the second host of the Tonight Show dies, but at 85 it’s not much of a shocker. Near misses include Alex Trebek falling asleep at the wheel, Rip Torn driving drunk and Barry Manilow having chest pains.